A Turn of the Screwed Read online

  Suncoast Society

  A Turn of the Screwed

  Noel has spent the past two years of her ten-year marriage to Scott trying to be his Domme after he admits he thinks he’s gay and knows he’s kinky. When she gives him permission to go be happy, to find a guy who can take care of his needs, he meets Keith. She wants what’s best for Scott, but why’d his Dom have to be so damn hunky?

  Scott loves Noel and hates breaking her heart, but he’s spent his life trying to deny who he is. When he meets Keith, he realizes this is perfection. He just wishes he didn’t have to leave Noel.

  Keith loves Scott and admires the man’s devotion to Noel. He feels for Noel and realizes that, no matter what, someone will lose to make someone else happy.

  But then a stormy night changes everything, and Keith realizes maybe the obvious answer to their mutual happiness has been in front of them the entire time…

  Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 61,394 words

  A TURN OF THE SCREWED

  Suncoast Society

  Tymber Dalton

  SIREN SENSATIONS

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Siren Sensations

  A TURN OF THE SCREWED

  Copyright © 2015 by Tymber Dalton

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-63259-117-3

  First E-book Publication: March 2015

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of A Turn of the Screwed by Tymber Dalton from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Tymber Dalton’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Tymber Dalton’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  For Mr. B. Because.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  While all the books in the Suncoast Society series are standalone works which may be read independently of each other, the recommended reading order to avoid spoilers is as follows:

  1. Safe Harbor

  2. Cardinal’s Rule

  3. Domme by Default

  4. The Reluctant Dom

  5. The Denim Dom

  6. Pinch Me

  7. Broken Toy

  8. A Clean Sweep

  9. A Roll of the Dice

  10. His Canvas

  11. A Lovely Shade of Ouch

  12. Crafty Bastards

  13. A Merry Little Kinkmas

  14. Sapiosexual

  15. A Very Kinky Valentine’s Day

  16. Things Made Right

  17. Click

  18. Spank or Treat

  19. Turn of the Screwed

  Noel’s friend Eliza first appears in A Roll of the Dice.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Author's Note

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  About the Author

  A TURN OF THE SCREWED

  Suncoast Society

  TYMBER DALTON

  Copyright © 2015

  Chapter One

  Keith Knepp stood at the railing in front of his room and looked out over the hotel’s courtyard, surveying the start of the action. It was a warm early March Friday night, even by Florida standards. Music flowed over and through the space, a visceral, breathing animal, the bass line pumping through him. In and around the pool, men lounged and swam and stalked each other. In the waning light, it was now possible to see the bouncing disco lights sweeping the area.

  One. Big. Party.

  He’d been here a few times before, both for afternoons and for overnight stays. Four different bars, a dance club, a leather bar, and a restaurant. A hideaway in the middle of St. Petersburg, the Toucan Resort did not lay at all off the beaten path, yet most straights and vanillas didn’t even realize it was there.

  Wish we had something like this in Sarasota.

  There were a lot of things he wished they had in Sarasota. He’d been to Venture a few times and was a member of the BDSM club, even had a couple of friends there, but unfortunately there weren’t many single gay guys who went on a regular basis. This weekend, a leather boy contest was being held at the Toucan, meaning not just gay men, but gay men interested in BDSM.

  If he was going to fish, he needed to fish in the correct and well-stocked pond for a change.

  He’d booked at room at the Toucan for the whole weekend, with late Sunday checkout. He was hoping that, between now and then, maybe he’d meet a couple of prospects, guys interested in more than just a quick fuck.

  He wanted a relationship. Being alone had gotten old. At thirty-nine, he was ready to settle down with someone. And the fact that the state’s gay marriage ban had
just fallen courtesy of the courts meant he really could have it all. Finally.

  If he could find someone to have it all with.

  * * * *

  Noel clutched the beer bottle in her hand and held it close to her throat, a security blanket more than anything. On the barstool next to her, her friend and fellow teacher, Kennedy Charles, sounded like an ADHD squirrel hopped up on caffeine as she rapid-fire chatted with a guy who’d wandered up to them and now looked like he strongly regretted the decision.

  On the other side of Noel sat her friend, Eliza, who was the DD for the night.

  Hell, Eliza was usually the DD for their girls’ night outings.

  Noel jumped when Eliza tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to the bar’s back deck, which overlooked the Intracoastal.

  Gratefully, Noel stood and headed that way while Eliza leaned in and whispered something in Kennedy’s ear.

  The poor guy looked like he’d rather go with the two of them than stand there in Kennedy’s clutches, but it was every woman for herself as far as Noel was concerned.

  Eliza overtook Noel and gently caught her elbow, steering her toward a back, secluded corner by the railing.

  “Spill it,” Eliza said.

  Noel felt her face heat in the deepening night. “What?”

  “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

  Noel took another sip of her beer to buy her some time. “What?”

  Eliza hooked a thumb over her shoulder toward the bar’s interior. “I know you didn’t want to talk about whatever it is in front of chatterbox in there, but I’m your best friend. Is there something going on you need to talk about?”

  Hell, if she couldn’t talk to Eliza, she couldn’t talk to anyone. They’d been friends for years. “Yeah,” she quietly admitted.

  “The BDSM stuff’s not going so well, huh?”

  Noel let out a snort. “You could say that.”

  “Rusty and I warned you guys to take it slow, just wet a toe at a time. What happened?”

  Noel leaned on the railing and looked down into the water. High tide, the pilings of the adjoining dock were mostly covered. She wished she could melt into the darkness, into the water, never come out.

  “He’s gay,” Noel softly said. “Well, he’s bi, but heavily on the gay side of bi.”

  “Huh.” Eliza leaned against the railing next to Noel. “I wondered.”

  At first, Noel wasn’t sure she’d heard Eliza right. “What?”

  Eliza shrugged. “Just a hunch Rusty and I had.”

  “How could I be the last one to know?”

  “Women sometimes are. Usually are. So what now?”

  “You’re not shocked?”

  “No. Why? Should I be? When did he tell you?”

  “About two years ago.”

  Eliza nearly choked on the sip of iced tea she’d been taking. “What? That’s when you guys started the BDSM stuff.”

  “Yeah. I know. I was compromising. Trying to keep him happy. I didn’t tell you about the rest.”

  “Obviously.” Eliza let out another cough and finally composed herself. “How about you start over. Why are you so upset tonight?”

  “There’s a thing going on at some resort in St. Pete this weekend. A gay leather thing. I told him if he wanted to go, he could. And if something happened…”

  “Ah.” Eliza remained silent for a moment. “That he could do whatever.”

  “Yeah. As long as he’s safe. I want him to be happy.”

  “So what now? Are you guys going to get divorced?”

  “He said he doesn’t want to.”

  “Or is he saying that for your benefit?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to get divorced either. For all the reasons.”

  “All the reasons” being her extremely conservative and religious parents, who hadn’t been thrilled about her marrying Scott in the first place.

  Fortunately, her parents lived in Indiana. The past two years when Noel and Scott had gone up to visit them, as they had during the previous eight years of their marriage, they’d pretended all was well and dodged the inevitable questions about when they’d have grandchildren, like Noel’s two brothers and two sisters. She’d always wished to have a closer relationship with them, seeking their approval, even though she never understood why she needed it. Her marriage dissolving would be one more failing in their ever-judgmental eyes.

  “So the tl;dr is that you’re living in limbo for now,” Eliza said.

  “I guess.” Her friend had an annoyingly accurate way of slicing through the fat and right to the bone, cutting through the bullshit.

  The truth was, Noel didn’t want to divorce Scott. She loved him. And he still did things with her in bed. She’d hoped by helping him with the BDSM part of stuff, the strap-on play, the bondage, the domination, the impact play, that maybe it would be enough for him.

  Perhaps in her heart she’d always known it wouldn’t be, but she’d hoped that old chestnut would prove true, about if you loved something and set it free.

  Maybe she’d set him free, but what if he wasn’t hers to have in the first place? Would he even come back?

  Scott had gone out on dates a few times locally, guys he’d met online, but nothing that had panned out for him. He still hadn’t had any sexual encounters with a man, even though she’d given him permission to. He’d promised her he wouldn’t randomly sleep around, and that he wouldn’t blow up their marriage for anything less than what he felt for her already.

  In her heart, she’d always hoped he never would leave, never would find someone else. She knew he loved her. She felt loved.

  She also couldn’t help feeling less-than. There were lots of things she could and would do to make her husband happy.

  Unfortunately, growing a penis or changing her chromosomal makeup wasn’t one of them.

  Eliza looked contemplative. “You’re hoping he sows some wild oats and comes home happy for a while, right?”

  Noel looked at Eliza. “That’s creepy.” She knew she didn’t have to explain what she meant to her friend.

  Eliza shrugged. “It’s a blessing and a curse.” She slung an arm around Noel’s shoulders. “You aren’t the first woman in the history of the world to be a beard, and you won’t be the last, unfortunately. But only you can decide what’s right for you.”

  “I don’t know what’s right for me.” Noel knew what a divorce would mean, basically having to cut herself off from contact with her family or face their “told you so” wrath that they’d been holding on to for ten years.

  In their eyes, Scott wasn’t good enough not just for Noel, but for “the family.” They’d reluctantly suffered Noel’s decision to be a teacher, thinking she was simply rebelling, when everyone else was either a lawyer or involved in banking, or a high-ranking corporate wonk, something “successful,” in other words.

  Not…that.

  To them, being a teacher was a thankless, dead-end, broke-ass job that wouldn’t lead her anywhere in life. Not when her father was a successful entrepreneur who ran a Fortune 500 investment company. Not when her eldest brother was a corporate attorney for one of the largest pharmaceutical firms in the US. Not when her other brother was a circuit court judge with eyes on running for state representative, and then perhaps later the Senate or House of Representatives.

  Not when her younger sister had clerked for a Supreme Court judge before landing a prestigious position at a Washington, D.C. legal firm.

  Not when her older sister now worked on Wall Street.

  They would have been happier with Noel taking an entry-level job in the mail room at a large corporation and clawing her way up the ladder over the years than becoming a teacher. They would have at least respected her for that kind of “rebellion.”

  No, Noel was the black sheep in the family. After graduating from college, she’d moved to Florida, where she’d fallen in love with the state while on spring break her junior year in college. She’d gotten a job first with a privat
e school in Bradenton, then with the Sarasota county school system a year later.

  Then she’d met and married Scott, a 911 dispatcher for the county, whom she’d met—ironically—during a mandatory sexual harassment workshop for new county employees. They’d married a year later after dating.

  While her family had—sort of—kept their mouths shut about her choice in careers, apparently they’d hoped she’d at least have the common sense to marry up in the world if she was refusing to make her own way career-wise.

  It wasn’t until she’d threatened to simply elope with Scott and not have a wedding at all that her parents had backed the hell off, offered to pay for the wedding if she held it up in Indiana, and told her that it was her life she was fucking up.

  Well, not in those exact words, but the subtext glared like a neon sign in a dark desert on a moonless night.

  Then again, she’d always felt less-than growing up. Not even the youngest, or technically the middle child, but her older brothers and sister had already set a precedent of expectations from her parents that when she came along made life damned hard for her. Even her younger sister, the baby, had fallen in line with the family thinking like a good little sheep. Yes, she lived her own life.

  Still, it would have been nice to have her family’s acceptance about one damn thing. Getting divorced would only give them more ammo against her to prove she should have done what they said, regardless of how miserable it made her.

  Noel had been the one getting in trouble in Sunday school for questioning the Bible teachings. Noel had been the one earning dour looks from her parents and especially from her father when she spoke up in favor of gay rights and other “liberal” causes. Noel had been the one getting eye rolls and glares of condescension for going to poetry readings and “wasting her time” on attending coffeeshops to see indie bands perform, or reading “liberal” fiction instead of the Wall Street Journal or Forbes.